Protection

You are my hiding place; you protect me from distress. You surround me with shouts of joy from those celebrating deliverance (Psalm 32:7).

Who can protect us?

Protection is a quite salient matter in a world full of dangers. Many want to speak of “the universe” as if it has some kind of specific will for us or will grant us certain things if we intend or behave in certain ways; yet scientifically it is beyond doubt that the universe is actively trying to kill us. Bacteria and viruses continually beset us. And we have all sorts of dangers in between: weather conditions and natural disasters, let alone what fellow human beings might do to us. It’s dangerous out there!

Some might want to think they live in greater danger today than those who came before us, but upon any level of investigation it would be difficult to sustain that kind of argument. If anything, our ancestors lived in greater dangers: various illnesses, wild animals and hostile weather conditions, natural disasters, and fewer ways to ameliorate the danger. Yet such kinds of comparisons ultimately prove futile: in truth, people have always been in danger; people will never run out of things regarding which they can be afraid and which they believe is dangerous; and therefore people have always looked to find some kind of protector.

As we have become ever more secular and skeptical of authority, many have come to suggest themselves as their own protector, or the protector of others. There is a whole American culture dedicated to the proposition of maintaining and upholding the honor and integrity of the family and friends through protection by any means necessary. It has deep roots in Americana; one easily identifiable source would be a particular Scots Irish frontier libertarian culture and mentality that elevated one’s ability to provide for oneself and one’s family without interference from authorities and protected with vigilance. Such types of perspectives easily meld protection within provision so that when many read, for example, that one who does not provide for one’s family is worse than an unbeliever (as in 1 Timothy 5:8), they understand it to mean not just to provide material and emotional resources but also protection, with violence if need be. We are now at the point when many profess the name of the Lord Jesus and will maintain weapons for violence on their person to be ready, at a moment’s notice, to harm or take the lives of others in the name of protecting those they love. Such is even done within the assembly of the Lord’s people, and is often commended as reasonable and sensible!

We understand the impulse; the desire to protect one’s own life and the lives of those we love and to whom we are dedicated is very strong. But is this the explicit will of the Lord Jesus? And who can really protect us?

The Lord Jesus spoke a word about protection through violence in Matthew 26:52: those who take hold of the sword will die by the sword. It was a message powerfully imprinted upon His disciples: Jesus had said as much to Peter when Peter had taken out a sword in an attempt to protect Jesus, and we never hear of Peter or any other Apostle using or encouraging the use of violence to protect themselves afterward. Such a posture only makes sense in light of what Jesus was about to do: He willingly gave Himself to suffer and die even though He had not done anything wrong. Peter himself would reflect upon this and declare that Jesus entrusted Himself to the God who judges justly and did not retaliate when harmed (1 Peter 2:22-23). Peter understood what Jesus had done as marching orders for those who would follow Him: they should go about doing good for others, even if they suffered for doing so, while entrusting themselves to a faithful Creator (1 Peter 4:19). What would motivate anyone to do such a thing? The testimony of deep, abiding love of God displayed in Jesus for those who sinned and were alienated from God (cf. Romans 5:6-11). As God has loved us even though we have sinned and fallen short of His glory, so we are called to love others in the same way. We are to love those who would hurt us and pray for those who would persecute us (Luke 6:35). Jesus loves the criminal as much as He loves you, me, small children, and everyone else. Jesus wants them all to be saved: even the person who wants to hurt you (1 Timothy 2:4).

So who can protect us? In the days of old few men proved as mighty in battle as David son of Jesse. Yet after he confessed his sins before YHWH because they laid upon him grievously and commended this for others, he confessed YHWH was his hiding place, and that YHWH would protect him from trouble (Psalm 32:1-7). David was surrounded by those shouting for joy because God delivered them (Psalm 32:7).

Throughout the Psalms, in fact, David and other writers reckon YHWH as their refuge, strong rock, strong tower, and place of hiding and protection. They praise YHWH for deliverance. They also warn Israel against trusting in military might for their protection (cf. Psalms 20:7, 146:3). The prophets would utter a similar warning, exemplified in Isaiah 7:1-17: if God’s people trust in military maneuvering and foreign policy and not in their God, they will be humiliated, fail, and incur judgment. They were better off trusting in YHWH as their King and Protector, and YHWH would provide deliverance for them. They did not trust; they sought protection in chariots and foreign policy; and they were overrun and destroyed by chariots and foreign policy.

The faithful and wise people of God have always understood that God, and God alone, can truly protect them. How God has protected His people has manifested itself differently at different times and in different circumstances, and sometimes through very strange means. It is not as if there is no place for violence; God has established civil government to establish justice in the land and to punish evil; God’s people are to let them take vengeance and wield the sword (Romans 13:1-7). The rulers of old were held to that standard as well (cf. Isaiah 1:10-17). God helped Israel fight its battles time and again (cf. Exodus 15:1-19). Isaiah envisioned judgment on Aram and Israel to deliver Judah by the hands of the bloodthirsty Assyrians (Isaiah 7:1-17). The same kind of Roman soldiers and guards who helped to execute Jesus protected Paul from death at the hand of the Jewish people almost thirty years later (cf. Acts 21:32-26:32). God will hold all such authorities responsible for how they used and abused their authority; God does not hold responsible those who live, or those who suffer, under it.

It is not difficult to imagine circumstances in which it did not look like God protected His people. Plenty of God’s people have died at the hands of raging persecutors. Many others have died at the hands of violent men. Many have suffered exploitation in a thousand different ways. Untold thousands have died of disease or because of natural disasters. That’s a lot of suffering.

But what have we come to expect, and to what end? It is futile to imagine that we can truly protect ourselves or anyone else from every danger. We are not as powerful, and often not in control, as much as we would like to think we are. If protecting others through intimidation or force were as important to faithful Christian witness as many would imagine, why has God not spoken about it? Why did Jesus or the Apostles not model it, and just as importantly, why did Jesus denounce it when one of His disciples actually tried it? When we must speak frequently when God has not spoken it should give us great pause regarding what we are saying. Perhaps we have imported something that was never there in the first place. Perhaps we are not listening to what is being said.

It is a particularly modern delusion to think we are in control and can control our environment. Those who came before us lived by time and chance (Ecclesiastes 9:11); and if we would hear it, so do we. If we will be protected from dangers, it is because God is protecting us. If for whatever reason in God’s economy, be it the freewill decisions of others, the work of the powers and principalities, or perhaps even just unfortunate circumstance, we are called upon to suffer and die, it is not as if God has proven unfaithful. We brought nothing into this world; we cannot take anything out of it (1 Timothy 6:7). We are weak and frail; our strength should have always been entrusted in the Lord and His might (Ephesians 6:10-13). If we would truly want to see our families, friends, and loved ones protected, we do best to entrust them into the hands of God our Protector. If a mighty warrior like David thus trusted in God, perhaps we should also.

In the end, we will all be held accountable for what we have done in the body when we stand before the Lord Jesus (Acts 17:30-31, Romans 2:5-11). We do best to stand there having entrusted ourselves to our faithful Creator, even through tremendous suffering, humiliation, and degradation, than to stand before a faithful Creator with the weight of the pain, distress, and perhaps even the blood of human beings on our souls and our hands. We should stand before Jesus having followed His ways of humiliation and suffering so we might be exalted through the unimaginably fantastic glory of God, praising God as the Protector and Deliverer of our souls unto eternal life!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Love Grown Cold

“Then many will be led into sin, and they will betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will appear and deceive many, and because lawlessness will increase so much, the love of many will grow cold” (Matthew 24:10-12).

It was a difficult and dark time. The rulers wallowed in their decadence while many of the common people suffered. People did not trust their government and looked for some kind of champion. Plenty rushed in with all sorts of delusions and plots. People did not know who to believe or trust. Everyone seemed to be in it for themselves and their ideas and would do, and did, almost anything to obtain and maintain power. In this way the people were led down the path which led to devastation and death.

Such was the plight of Judea in the 60s, just as Jesus had predicted.

While in Jerusalem, Jesus’ disciples showed Jesus the various and magnificent buildings which comprised the Herodian Temple (Matthew 24:1); Jesus told them that it would be completely devastated and torn down (Matthew 24:2). When the disciples asked how such things could take place, Jesus began to warn them about what they would see: many would claim to be the Messiah; there would be wars and rumors of wars; disasters would take place; yet all such things were not the end, and they should not be misled (Matthew 24:3-8). The disciples would be handed over to persecution and death and would be hated among all the nations because of Jesus (Matthew 24:9).

The disciples would then see signs of distress within their communities. They would see people led into sin, betraying and hating one another; false prophets would tell them what they would want to hear and thus deceive many; lawlessness would increase, and love would grow cold (Matthew 24:10-12).

The devastation of the Herodian Temple complex in Jerusalem, which is the primary subject of Matthew 24:1-36, took place during the First Jewish War of 68-70. We can consider Josephus’ The Jewish War and see how everything Jesus warned about played out during that time. Josephus would have us understand how the Jewish people suffered far more from one another than anything the Romans did to them: even as they resisted the Roman siege the people of Jerusalem were divided into warring factions; some destroyed the food stock; every group would use violence against the others. Extremists were normalized overnight and given control over the fate of the nation. The people starved; stories of people eating their own children are recorded. All the Romans had to do was to wait for the Jewish people to exhaust themselves before providing the final stroke.

Jesus could predict such things not only because He was God and a prophet, but also because Israel in His own day was already primed for such distress (cf. Luke 23:28-31). They had not wanted to consider how they were as delusional as their fathers were in the days of Babylon; they remained convinced that armed uprising would liberate them from the Romans, and chose an insurrectionist over the Author of Life (Acts 3:13-14). When times got tougher, the situation spiraled out of control, and God’s judgment against Israel was completed.

While the Jewish people were God’s elect, they were still humans, and the tendencies they expressed in their collapse can be seen in other societies. There are disturbing and unfortunate trends we can perceive while times are good, and we may raise an eyebrow, but then move on to focus on what we think are greater things. Yet when times become difficult those trends get magnified. All of a sudden people who seemed righteous and holy, and many who perhaps truly were righteous and holy, are led into sin. We are shocked to find out that someone we thought highly of and trusted in his or her judgment has turned into someone we can barely recognize. People of goodwill, friends, and even families are torn apart in hostility.

How could all of this have happened? Events, trials, and difficulty expose people and their deep-seated ideas and fears. There are times when people no longer know who they should trust, and so they simultaneously trust no one and yet everyone. They presume to be in the know and well-informed, yet in truth have been deceived and deluded according to their own desires and lusts. We kid ourselves if we imagine the days of false prophets is past and gone; they proliferate now more than ever, given ever greater platforms to reach larger audiences through the media and the Internet.

This process does not take place overnight; upon reflection we can see how people could have possibly gone down these dark roads to lead to such a distressing conclusion. And what is found on that road but coldness of heart as lawlessness increases? The sinful are emboldened; the righteous in their discretion become quiet (cf. Amos 5:13). Profligacy and flagrant perversion multiplies. You cannot trust anyone anymore. So you either join in or stay quiet.

Watching this play out is like watching a train wreck: it is awful, it causes a lot of damage and death, and there is not a whole lot we as individuals can do about it. Watching the judgment on a group of people play itself out is never a fun or pleasant thing (cf. Amos 5:18-20). It may not be the end of the world, but it certainly involves the end of a world. Yes, according to God’s will, that world did need to come to an end, however things work out for those involved later. A generation will arise and will wonder how it could ever be that people could have possibly believed such delusions, or acted in such immoral ways while thinking God would somehow justify them. And yet within such a generation there is at least the seed of the next catalyst for delusion and immorality.

What, then, ought the faithful people of God do when they endure such disaster in their lives? After explaining what the disciples would see, Jesus reminded them that those who endure to the end will be the ones who are saved (Matthew 24:13). The Gospel of the Kingdom would be preached throughout the world as a testimony to the nations (Matthew 24:14; cf. Colossians 1:6).

The end came for Second Temple Judaism; the end has also come for many nations and civilizations ever since. We can look back and see how foolish it would have been for the disciples, or other Jewish Christians of the time, to have cast away their confidence in Jesus and their eternal salvation to follow a delusional crackpot in their midst who promised them victory over the Romans or over another sect of their fellow Jewish people. We can look back and wonder why Christians of the early fifth century felt compelled to uphold the vestiges of the broken remnants of the Roman Empire, the very Empire that had worked so diligently in times past to persecute them. We do not even need to look back: we can ask today why a Christian as part of another nation-state would even think to follow the twists and turns of untrustworthy and immoral people and to fall prey to ungodliness in a desperate attempt to uphold their cultural status quo.

Yet as we can see the speck in the eyes of these prospective/real Christians of the past and present, can we see the log in our own eyes? Can we see how we may be too invested in our own society, whether in its present reality or in what we imagine it used to be, and give our power over to people participating in flagrant immorality and pushing delusional theories and ideologies, all in the quest to maintain or obtain power against the perceived malignant Other? Are we willing to consider how those to whom we listen might be, in truth, false prophets, leading us astray from what is good and right and holy in the Kingdom of God in Christ? Has the love of Christians gone cold because they have become more identified with their political tribe or ideology than their commitment to God in Christ? Have we chosen the ways of the world in its corruption and decay and given ourselves over to our fears of what our perceived enemies might do to us, or will we continue to surrender ourselves to the love of God in Christ which would cast out all such fears? What will our children, or an even later generation, have to say regarding what was exposed about is in our distress?

In all of this we must remember that Jesus was speaking to His disciples about Israel, the people of God, and to allow ourselves to fully absorb the scandal that was how the people of God in His generation went so terribly wrong. That we can see this very thing play out among the people of God in our own generation is distressing and lamentable, but should not surprise us. We must endure to the end to be saved: to continue to hold firm to the Lord Jesus Christ, to not heed the siren song of the partisans and tribalists who would lead us astray so they can obtain power, wealth, and standing, and to refuse to grow cold in our love because of lawlessness, pursuing holiness and righteousness in a love that fears no thing in this creation. It is hard to watch as those whom we loved and trusted fall away in their delusions; in all things we must remain firm in our faith in Jesus and His Kingdom, and never stop embodying His Gospel in word and deed before our fellow people of God and those out in the world. May we glorify God in Christ and obtain the resurrection of life in Him!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Wait in Silence

My soul waiteth in silence for God only / From him cometh my salvation (Psalm 62:1).

If God is who He says He is, we must trust Him and find our security in Him and in no other.

We know this to be true in terms of intellect and cognition: we understand the logical nature of the premise, and by faith we accept it to be true. And yet what happens the moment we are tempted to trust in someone, or something, else? Or, perhaps, what happens when it is revealed to us just how much we have been trusting in someone, or something, else, and not truly in God?

David meditated on the matter in Psalm 62:1-12. David waited in soul in silence for God, and God alone, for his salvation came from God: God was his rock, salvation, and high tower, so David would not be moved (Psalm 62:1-2). David noticed how many people laid in wait to strike one another: they focused on other people to tear them down, delighting in lies; they might bless with their mouths, but they curse in their hearts (Psalm 62:3-4). Thus David reinforced his message: his soul should wait for God only and in silence, for David’s expectation is from Him, his rock, salvation, and high tower, so he would not be moved; his salvation and glory were with God, and in God was his strength and refuge (Psalm 62:5-7). David called all people to trust him at all times, pouring out their hearts before Him, for He is their refuge (Psalm 62:8). David again considered humanity and how he could not rely upon any: those of low esteem are “vanity,” a breath (cf. Ecclesiastes 1:2, etc.); those of high esteem lie; they all, when weighted, are lighter than vanity/a breath (Psalm 62:9). People should not trust in oppression or robbery; if people gain wealth they should not trust in it (Psalm 62:10). David has seen the end of the matter: God has spoken, that power belongs to Him, as well as hesed, where covenant loyalty meets steadfast love; in His faithfulness to His covenant God will render to every person according to what they have done (Psalm 62:11-12).

David thus understood who God is: all power belongs to Him, and He is faithful to His covenant. Thus David recognized his need to wait for God in silence, to trust in God as the source of his salvation and a place of refuge and strength. People always fail: they are here one day, and gone the next, and focus the whole time on looking better by reckoning others as worse. Wealth, whether gained honorably or dishonorably, is vain, and does not deliver on its promises; poverty is no less vain.

The world has not appreciably changed in these regards over the past three thousand years. People still always fail. People still focus on other people, looking for reasons to tear down others and look better by comparison, as exemplified in modern social media. Those lowly esteemed in society remain but a breath, a vanity; those more highly esteemed promote the lies that allowed them and their ancestors to obtain that esteem and the privileges which flow from it. Wealth remains as David, and Jesus and Paul, described it: a continual source of temptation toward idolatry, to trust in one’s material prosperity over the God who gave it all (cf. Luke 12:13-48, 1 Timothy 6:3-10, 17-19). Meanwhile, God remains all powerful, and has proven faithful to covenant; He will recompense all according to what they have done (Romans 2:5-11, 13:1, Hebrews 10:19-25).

As Christians we “know” these things: we accept their truth on a cognitive level. But how deeply have we internalized it? Has it transformed our hearts? Has God revealed to us our dependence on the opinions of others, our valuation of our status, whether low or high, and/or our reliance on material wealth, whether by heeding His wisdom or through trials and distress? Have we really learned to depend upon God as our refuge from all of the unreliability of the world, or are we still trying really hard to make the world more reliable for us?

How we answer these questions might depend on how well we have internalized and practiced David’s posture in Psalm 62:1-11: do we wait for Him in silence? Waiting for God requires great patience: God works according to His time scale, and that goes well beyond ours. We may cry out for justice, peace, or any number of things, and have to suffer long until God’s purposes are fully accomplished. Watching God’s purposes play out can be a glorious thing; when in judgment, it can prove quite painful, and more prolonged than we might want to imagine. Yet, as God’s people, we must reckon God’s longsuffering as salvation (2 Peter 3:15): if God had proven as patient with us as we are with Him, we would all be doomed.

We must also wait for God in silence. Most of us do not tolerate silence well. We find it awkward. We want to fill that time and space with noise and busy activities. Perhaps, in the silence, gnawing questions, trauma from our past, or other things bubble up, and we would rather not address them. Perhaps we have been acculturated to resist silence, choosing the dopamine release of constant stimulation from devices or activities. Or perhaps we lack the patience to sit in the silence. Such is especially manifest in our prayer life: do we ever just sit with God without having to speak? Is there any other relationship in our lives that only involves one-way monologue quite like the relationship many of us have with God in prayer?

God has all power; God displays covenant loyalty, and because of that covenant loyalty will both reward those who seek Him and judge those who do not. We are weak; He is strong. We are often and easily beset with temptations and trials; He can rescue us. We easily look to the idols of this world, making much of little and esteeming little of what is great; He would be our everything, but only if we wait on Him in silence. As God’s people we will learn to wait for God in silence by heeding such wisdom, be humbled by our circumstances and trials as through fire to wait for God in silence, or have our idolatry exposed, either to repent and turn to the living God or to cling to them ever more closely and go into perdition because of them. May we all turn to God in heart as well as mind, and wait for Him in silence!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Judging Before the Time

Wherefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and make manifest the counsels of the hearts; and then shall each man have his praise from God (1 Corinthians 4:5).

The Corinthian Christians were getting ahead of themselves and going well beyond what was written. Its fruit was manifest and ugly, and it did not please or honor the Lord.

Party factionalism threatened to tear the church in Corinth apart, and all about preacher preference! Some favored Paul; others, Apollos; others, Cephas; still others insisted on Christ (1 Corinthians 1:12). The Corinthians were used to philosophical schools and philosophical cults of personality; it would not be difficult to imagine they saw Paul, Apollos, Cephas, and others in terms of Plato, Aristotle, or Zeno, and thus had to be reminded how in Christ God overthrew the wisdom of the world (1 Corinthians 1:18-32). Each preacher would have come with his manner and style of preaching; Paul made a defense for being rhetorically poor, and sought to show the Corinthian Christians how all the preachers worked toward the same goal of building up in Christ (1 Corinthians 2:1-3:23). The Corinthian Christians were judging Paul based on his appearance, rhetorical skill (or lack thereof), and other features; he reminded them his judge was God who entrusted him with the Gospel (1 Corinthians 4:1-4).

Such judgmentalism seemed to come naturally to the Corinthian Christians, and for Paul, that was part of the problem. They had judged before the time; they were making determinations which could only be made known by the Lord when He returned (1 Corinthians 4:5). They should have instead learned from Apollos and Paul not to go beyond what is written, to not be puffed up against one another, and to not rely on fleshy judgmentalism (1 Corinthians 4:6ff). The Corinthian Christians were in the wrong not because their judgments were inaccurate; they were in the wrong because they were making much of their judgment in the first place. They arrogated for themselves a posture to which they had no right and regarding which they proved more ignorant than accurate. They almost split the church and caused great ruin in doing so.

Judgment before the time remains a challenge for the people of God. Far too many have received the impression somehow from somewhere that it is given to them to render judgment in any given situation. They have found some justification for judgment from the situation described in 1 Corinthians 5:1-13, and Jesus’ exhortation to judge righteous judgment in John 7:24. Rendering judgment in any given circumstance and situation is axiomatic and taken for granted: do we not have to discern? Don’t we have to render some kind of judgment about right and wrong?

Yet the same Apostle who told the Corinthians to judge those within in 1 Corinthians 5:1-13 had just upbraided them for their judgment before the time in 1 Corinthians 1:10-4:21. The same Jesus who told the Jews to judge righteous judgment warned them also how they would be judged by the same standard by which they judged in Matthew 7:1-2, and wished for them to take the beam out of their eye before they could help their brothers with the specks in theirs in Matthew 7:3-5.

It is one thing for us to discern what is right and wrong, to do and affirm the right and to avoid the wrong (Romans 12:8-9, Hebrews 5:12-14); it is another to presume to understand the complexities of a situation in which we remain mostly ignorant and act as a judge of the law rather than a doer of it (cf. James 4:11-12). It is one thing for us to hear from two or more witnesses and mournfully withdraw association from those who claim to follow the Lord Jesus but walk disorderly in practice or doctrine (Romans 16:16-17, 1 Corinthians 5:1-13); it is quite another to presume to sit in the Lord’s judgment seat and pronounce the judgment on the servant of another (Romans 14:10-12).

Christians do well to recognize why Jesus, Paul, and James say what they do in Matthew 7:1-5, Romans 14:10-12, 1 Corinthians 4:5, and James 4:11-12 just as they do for John 7:24 and 1 Corinthians 5:1-13. Some things we must discern to maintain our lives in the faith; everything else is not for us to presume to judge.

This is not an excuse for Christians to bury their heads in the sand. Luke 13:1-5 is illustrative. Many times this passage is used to condemn a focus on “current events,” but note well how Jesus proved quite aware of the “headlines” of the day, bringing in the story of those upon whom a tower fell in Siloam alongside those whose blood Pilate mingled with their sacrifices. Jesus’ concern was less about the news and more with what the Israelites were doing with the news: using it to justify their current biases and not to consider themselves. Unless you repent, you will likewise perish.

As Christians we will be continually confronted with circumstances regarding which we are not equipped to render judgment at all, and certainly not before the time. We will hear of stories of people being killed in unjust ways. We will hear stories of people who have been oppressed and abused emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually. We will hear of wars and rumors of wars.

In these matters we have every right to form an opinion. In forming that opinion we do well to consider different perspectives, always keeping Proverbs 18:17 in mind. We may express our opinion and our reasons for holding that opinion. Hopefully we are open to new evidence and reconsideration of our opinion if circumstances demand it.

Yet in all such things we must remember our views are opinions. Unless we are the judge in a given case, or called upon by the civil government to stand as part of the jury for a given trial, our determination of right or wrong, guilt or innocence, is meaningless in the grand scheme of things. We will never learn all the facts. Stories will get interpreted in light of prevailing narratives and operating assumptions, and people’s conclusions will often tell you about where they stand in terms of those narratives and assumptions. Every one of us will likely be in for a surprise or two when we stand before the Lord Jesus and all that has been hidden will be made known.

Thus it is not for Christians to presume to be the judges of the mentalities and behaviors of others. We are not called upon to make a final determination regarding what we hear in the news or from the narratives of the lives of others. It is not for us to look at the misfortunes of others to buttress a sense of self-righteousness, for unless we repent, we will likewise perish. We must recognize that whatever we hear is not the whole story; people are never as bad as they are at their worst, and are not as good as they are at their best. Mercy triumphs over judgment (James 2:13); if we are merciless in how we judge others, we should not expect to receive mercy from others, and perhaps not even from God Himself!

Our judgment often clouds the impulses we ought to cultivate as Christians: love, grace, mercy, and compassion. We should not need a court decision in order to feel empathy and compassion for those who have suffered tragedy and pain. We should not “wait for the facts to come in” before we express heartache and pain with those who mourn. We should not be naïve, yet we should also not become hardened. If we have no reason to doubt what a person tells us, then we should acknowledge what they have said and seek to empathize with them in whatever they are enduring. We should not quickly demonize the other; yet we also should not justify or give any kind of pass to excuse wrongdoing, oppression, or injustice because of our empathy, compassion, or willingness to give the benefit of the doubt.

Very few things prove straightforward in this life. We must watch our tendency to make much of our judgments, but recognize they are really opinions and ought to hold them lightly in humility. We will never know all the facts; all will only be revealed when the Lord comes. We do better to find ways to show the love of God in Christ and stand firm for His truth, righteousness, and justice, and obtain life when Jesus returns!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Anthems

Oh give thanks unto YHWH; for he is good / For his lovingkindness endureth for ever (Psalm 136:1).

Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

Behold, the first verse of The Star-Spangled Banner by Francis Scott Key: made the United States national anthem. For many it is a stirring song of potential and hope. Admit it: when you read it, the tune played in your head.

Now let us use our imaginations: 3,000 years have passed by. Over time people have forgotten the nature of tunes and music of our times, and controversy exists over what exactly the musical notation found on many old documents means. And yet the first verse of The Star-Spangled Banner have been preserved, as has the story of the song’s origin: Francis Scott Key was imprisoned by the British in 1813 and composed it while watching the shelling of Fort McHenry near Baltimore after Washington, D.C. had already been burned to the ground.

Try to again read the lyrics of The Star-Spangled Banner as just text on a page, without playing the tune in your head, just like our imagined students of the past 3,000 years from now might have to do. A natural reaction might be: what kind of national anthem is that? A dangerous war; bombs bursting in the air; rockets flying around; and oh, by the way, does the United States flag still fly over America? It almost sounds like an existential crisis, which the War of 1812 really was for a time. How would you explain the feeling of perseverance and confidence in the future we have associated with the song without making reference to how the song is sung and how the tune communicates those feelings? It would be very difficult indeed to communicate what The Star-Spangled Banner means to Americans by just looking at its lyrics on a page.

A similar difficulty is very real for us today when it comes to the Psalms. We have the lyrics to the Psalms; some words have been preserved which provide some kind of musical direction, although their exact meaning and nature are in dispute. We know that many were set to tunes which had names and were known to its original audience, but the sound of those tunes has been lost for generations. All we have now are words on a page.

Psalm 136:1-26 might prove exasperating to a reader: it is a call and response psalm, and the response is always the same: literally, “for His hesed to forever,” with hesed meaning “covenant loyalty” and often translated as “lovingkindness” or “steadfast love,” and a verb added for understanding (“endures,” “is”). The call exhorts Israel to give thanks to YHWH as God of gods and Lord of lords (Psalm 136:1-3); declares YHWH as the Creator of all things (Psalm 136:4-9); reminds Israel how God delivered them from Egypt, through the Wilderness, and gave them victory so as to conquer the land (Psalm 136:10-22); assures them how YHWH will remember them in their low estate, will deliver them from their enemies, and cause them to prosper in the land (Psalm 136:23-25); and ends as it began, a call to give thanks to YHWH (Psalm 136:26; cf. Psalm 136:1). The modern reader may see such a psalm, read over it quickly, perhaps even skipping over the repetitive response, and move on without much thought.

Yet what would Psalm 136:1-26 represent for Israel? It looks very much like an anthem, something for them akin to our The Star-Spangled Banner. It is a song of praise and thanksgiving to God for all He has done for Israel, providing a continual reminder of how God’s covenant loyalty has delivered Israel thus far. God has the power above all powers; God is the Creator; God has rescued Israel and sustained Israel. Whether in the days of David, Josiah, Zechariah, or Jesus, Psalm 136:1-26 would remind Israel who they are and their complete dependence on God for all things.

We can only imagine what the tune might have been or how the call and response would have sounded like in ancient Israel. It is possible that it was sung or chanted like a funeral dirge, but that seems unlikely. Perhaps the volume escalated in a crescendo, becoming quite the raucous sound by the end. But we can be sure that it would have been powerful and meaningful for Israel, just like The Star-Spangled Banner is for Americans.

As we read and meditate upon the Psalms, we must never forget how lively and powerful they were for Israel. They deserve better than a quick skimming and moving on. There is deep faith, life, and hope in the Psalms for the people of God, and they remain a deep reservoir for us as we go through the joys and difficulties in life. May we also give thanks to God, for His covenant loyalty endures forever in Christ!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Who Is My Neighbor?

But he, desiring to justify himself, said unto Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29)

The Washington Post published an article entitled “Judgment Days” by Stephanie McCrummen on July 21, 2018. In it Ms. McCrummen interviewed many members of First Baptist Church in Luverne, Alabama, regarding their support of Donald Trump and their convictions as those who profess the Lord Jesus Christ. Within one of these interviews, ostensibly without provocation, one such member, Sheila Butler affirmed her confidence in America as a Christian nation and declared that “love thy neighbor as thyself,” quoted by Jesus as part of the foundation of the law and prophets in Matthew 22:39-40, meant “love thy American neighbor.” The “least of these my brethren” of Matthew 25:31-46 are Americans, according to Sheila Butler (“God, Trump, and the meaning of morality”; accessed 07/25/2018).

We might wonder what Jesus would say to Sheila Butler about her beliefs about His words. In this situation we need not wonder; Jesus Himself encountered an Israelite who felt the same way about Israel.

This Israelite shared a lot in common with Sheila Butler. He believed fervently in the God of Israel; he was proud to be part of his nation and ethnicity, and thought it was special to God. He asked Jesus the right question, one Sheila Butler may have asked before as well: what shall I do to inherit eternal life (Luke 10:25)? When Jesus asked this Israelite what he thought of the answer based on the Law, his response was of great value, one with which Sheila Butler would no doubt agree: you shall love YHWH your God with all your heart, soul, and strength, and you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10:26; cf. Leviticus 19:18, Deuteronomy 6:5). Jesus also agreed with the answer, and told him to do so and he would live (Luke 10:26).

But the conversation did not end there. This Israelite, a lawyer by trade, wanted to justify himself, to demonstrate how he was in the right in his present circumstance with his present attitudes. And so he asked Jesus: who is my neighbor (Luke 10:29)?

The Israelite assumed and acted as if his neighbor were his fellow Israelite. One could make an argument for this based in the Law and its treatment of Israelites versus the nations; it would certainly be taken as the standard practice of the day, since Israelites wanted as little involvement as possible with “Gentiles,” people of the nations; “Gentiles” was seen a pejorative term, equivalent to sinner and unclean (cf. Matthew 18:17, Acts 10:28). The Israelite would have had little reason to envision his neighbors in a universal sense; everything in his upbringing and culture privileged his fellow Israelites. This is likely true of Sheila Butler as well.

Jesus immediately perceived the two issues behind the question, and spoke to the real issues in a parable (Luke 10:30-36). Jesus spoke of an unfortunate Israelite who fell among robbers and left for dead. Exemplary members of his people, a priest and a Levite, perceive his condition, but not wanting to become unclean they passed him by.

Then someone came by who was not one of his people: a Samaritan. For Israelites, Samaritans were half-breeds, people who claimed a relationship with YHWH as their God of covenant who actually derived from the nations the Assyrians introduced into the land of Israel: when they were not active opponents of the Israelites of Judah, they remained a perpetual reminder of the exile and humiliation of Israel (cf. 2 Kings 17:24-41). John put it mildly when he said Jews have no dealings with Samaritans (John 4:9).

The Samaritan would have known all of this; he would have also perceived the injured man to be an Israelite. And yet the Samaritan was moved with compassion toward the injured Israelite, bound up his wounds, poured oil on them, and brought him to lodging, giving the money he had and pledging a bit more if necessary.

And then, Jesus’ question: among the priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan, who proved to be the neighbor to the Israelite who fell among the robbers (Luke 10:36)?

There was no escape. The Israelite lawyer, no doubt, did not like the answer, but it was the only answer which could be given. He could not bring himself to say “the Samaritan”; instead, he says, “the one who showed him mercy” (Luke 10:37). Jesus told him to go and do likewise (Luke 10:37).

The Israelite’s rationalizing question suffered from two flaws: not only was it an attempt to be restrictive of a broader command of God, it betrayed a person more interested in drawing lines than fulfilling the command. Jesus chose the characters of His story deliberately: priests and Levites were to minister to the Israelites and should have known the Law and its expectations, and yet they did nothing, more concerned about their personal cleanliness than the welfare of a fellow member of the people of God, prioritizing the cleanliness code over displaying love and mercy. Today we speak highly of “good Samaritans”; to Israel, there was no good Samaritan, and to see a half-breed prove more righteous than priests and Levites would stick in the Israelite craw.

The modern version of the story tells itself. A good Christian family, broken down on the side of the road, is assaulted by a motorcycle gang and left for dead. A deacon of a local Evangelical church drives by, sees them, but has to get his family to church on time; a pastor and his family drives by as well and likewise keeps going. An undocumented El Salvadoran immigrant drives by and sees the family in a terrible condition. He has compassion on the family, stops, and gives aid and assistance.

We also do well to notice how Jesus framed the indicting question: who proved to be neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers? He did not ask who his neighbor was; by common agreement, the priest and Levite were both neighbors by virtue of being fellow Israelites in close geographic proximity. Jesus is not interested in that. He is interested instead in who proves to be the neighbor: who loved his fellow man as himself?

It was the Samaritan. In our modern update, it is the undocumented El Salvadoran immigrant. It is not about what we profess. It is about how we act and what we demonstrate by our behaviors.

It would be easy to heap up scorn on Sheila Butler; such would be misguided. Her greatest fault is in speaking explicitly what is most often maintained implicitly, with coded language and an attempted bifurcation between certain political ideologies and spiritual realities. In terms of these issues at least Sheila Butler maintains a civic religion, an explicitly American faith, presuming America as a Christian nation with Americans as a privileged and chosen people. We could chastise Sheila Butler for this, but we do better to recognize that Sheila Butler believes these things because she was taught these things: perhaps not always explicitly, but certainly implicitly. People are far better at teasing out the implications of the things that are taught than we would like to admit. She, after all, did not come up with all of this out of nowhere.

Christianity was never meant to be a civic religion; Jesus is Lord of lords and King of kings, reigning over a transcendent Kingdom over all nation-states, and the exclusive property of none of them (Colossians 1:13, Philippians 3:20-21, Revelation 19:15-16). God loves undocumented people as much as American citizens. We are to prove to be neighbors to anyone and everyone: we must give precedence to fellow Christians, yet must do good to all (Galatians 6:10).

Yet we are all liable to the same error of the Israelite lawyer and Sheila Butler: taking a commandment of God and adding qualifiers to it which He did not establish and did not imagine. YHWH said for Israelites to love their neighbors as themselves, and it did have implication for the foreigner and sojourner in their midst; the Israelite lawyer had no justification to limit the command to fellow Israelites. In teaching this Israelite lawyer Jesus made it plain to His people they must prove to be neighbors to anyone and everyone (Luke 10:30-37); Sheila Butler, and those who taught her, have no justification to limit “neighbor” to their fellow Americans.

Jesus pronounced many commands people prove more than willing and able to circumscribe in ways which did not enter His mind or imagination. These are difficult commands, explicitly countercultural: turn the other cheek. Leave vengeance to God. Do good to everyone. Love everyone. Give without expecting to receive in return. Suffer without responding in kind (cf. Matthew 5:20-58, Luke 6:27-42; cf. Romans 12:17-21, 1 Peter 2:18-25).

Our culture and upbringing will give us reason to think it extreme to believe Jesus meant such things without qualification. Plenty of preachers and teachers will prove all too willing to provide those qualifications and to make fine distinctions, all of which are designed to justify themselves. People like to hear it; they like to have their consciences thus assuaged.

It is just as wrong to add to the Word of God as it is to take away from it. It is not for us to qualify or limit the commandments God has given in Jesus; it is given for us to accomplish them. May we all prove to be neighbors to our fellow man of any and all nationalities, and seek to embody all of the commands of the Lord Jesus, however counter-cultural and counter-intuitive, so that we may glorify Him and obtain the resurrection of life!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Molech

And they built the high places of Baal, which are in the valley of the son of Hinnom, to cause their sons and their daughters to pass through the fire unto Molech; which I commanded them not, neither came it into my mind, that they should do this abomination, to cause Judah to sin (Jeremiah 32:35).

Shame is baked into the name; the horror and the agony endure.

Among YHWH’s greatest concern for His people Israel involved the assimilation of the practices of the Canaanites and other nations whom YHWH would drive out before them. Israel was commanded time and time again to not serve the gods of the Canaanites and their related nations; unfortunately, for generations, Israel would not listen. Of all the idolatrous cults of the Canaanites, none proved as pernicious and wicked as the cult of a god which was known in terms of the Semitic root mlk: Melek / Milcom / Melquart. Later Jewish scribes, embarrassed and ashamed at the deeds of their ancestors, used the consonants mlk but inserted the vowels from the Hebrew boshet, “shameful thing”; thus we know “Melek” as Molech (also Moloch).

Melek is the Hebrew word for “king”; Melek as a god was known as the “Great King.” The cult of Melek was strongly associated with the cult of Baal, as can be seen in Jeremiah’s denunciation in Jeremiah 32:35; among the Ammonites Melek was known as Milcom (Malkam; 1 Kings 11:5, 33, 2 Kings 23:13; cf. 1 Kings 11:7); the Tyrians spoke of him as Melek-Qart, “King of the City,” which would become shortened to Melqart, and remain an important deity for both Tyre and its colony Carthage for generations. We do not know much about Melek; some scholars have even suggested we should understand mlk as a type of sacrifice more than a deity. Whether a god in and of himself, or just a sacrifice to the gods, the awful and terrible fact remains: Canaanites, and Israelites, would make their children pass through the fire to mlk/Melek.

The condemnation of offering children to Melek is found in many places in the Hebrew Bible (Leviticus 18:21, 20:2-5, 2 Kings 23:10, Jeremiah 7:31, 32:35). It gave comfort to many to suggest the prophets spoke in hyperbole; that children really were not offered to Melek; who could do such an abominable thing? But Greek and Roman authors spoke of child sacrifices in Carthage, and we have found remains of such sacrifices as well as inscriptions which speak of such sacrifices including the word mlk. It is horrifying; it is terrible; but, by all accounts, it actually happened. People sacrificed their beloved children to Melek.

What would motivate people to do such a terrible and awful thing? We read of its condemnation; we are not explicitly told why people would do so. Nevertheless, we can imagine some possible reasons. For generations the Canaanites had served Melek and offered their children to him, either to placate him or to gain his favor. Perhaps they believed Melek would allow them to maintain some rule or power; perhaps they hoped Melek would give them strength over their enemies, something akin to Mesha’s sacrifice of his son to Chemosh which seemed to change the calculus of the battle for Moab according to 2 Kings 3:27.

We have no reason to believe the Israelites, or the Canaanites for that matter, held their children in derision or contempt. By all accounts, they loved their children like we love ours. Yet they felt obligated to offer some of their children to Melek. It had to be done, after all, to preserve their nation. That was just the way it was in the land of Canaan. The Israelites saw it, and accepted that logic. It had to be done. Melek needed to be satiated. Beloved children would die.

Such sacrifices would go on for years; no doubt many were convinced that it worked somehow. But they “worked” until they didn’t: the Assyrians overpowered the Canaanite states, followed by the Babylonians, the Persians, and the Macedonians, and they did not offer their children to Melek. Carthaginian offerings to Melqart did not grant them victory over the Romans.

The Israelites who returned from their exile had learned their lesson. “Melek” became Molech; the place where children were offered, once considered holy to Melek, was now seen as defiled and haunted. Jeremiah prophetically had pronounced the Valley of the Sons of Hinnom, where people of Judah sacrificed their children to Melek, as the Valley of Slaughter (Jeremiah 7:31-32, 19:6-15); Israelites after the exile filled the Valley of Hinnom with garbage and burned it there; its awfulness inspired the word for hell in the New Testament, Gehenna (cf. Matthew 5:22, 29-30, 10:28).

We are rightly horrified at the prospect of slaughtering children to Molech. We cannot imagine that we would do anything of the sort. Yet we must be careful lest we overly demonize our ancestors in the faith; we might miss how we have made our own forms of Molech, and prove blind to what may condemn us in the end.

We could perhaps discover many forms of Molech in the modern world (confidence in military intervention in other places, corruption of children through abuse or instruction in deviant forms of sexuality, treatment of the poor, marginalized, and the oppressed, etc.), but in the Western world we should grapple with the prospect that we have made freedom a type of Molech in many ways. Every year scores of children are slaughtered in the womb in the name of a woman’s choice regarding her body. Some of the stories are tragic (women coerced into abortion by relatives, either her own or those of the father); others are horrifying in their callousness (women who think nothing of getting an abortion in order to demonstrate their rights). And yet, for those who advocate for women to maintain the right to abort in the name of choice/freedom, such is the necessary sacrifice for the cause. Those children have to die, after all, to preserve reproductive freedom. That is just the way it is done in the Western world. Likewise, every year scores of children and other innocent people are slaughtered with people with guns. Some of the stories are tragic (children coming upon a family member’s gun and accidentally killing someone); others are horrifying in their callousness (mass shooters, especially mass shooters in schools). And yet, for those who advocate an absolute right to maintain whatever arsenal a citizen might desire in the name of choice/freedom, such is the necessary sacrifice for the cause. Those children have to die, after all, to preserve our Second Amendment freedoms. That is just the way it is done in America.

No doubt people today believe their sacrifices to the Molech of freedom are convinced that it is working somehow. It might “work” until it doesn’t. And then it will be our descendants who might well look in horror and astonishment at us for what we justified and did, just as we look at our ancestors in our nation and in the faith in horror and astonishment for what they justified and did.

Israel was wrong from the beginning; Melek did not exist. YHWH, and YHWH alone, would give Israel blessings and victory and strength; setbacks, defeat, and weakness were due to an unwillingness to put that trust in YHWH. Molech’s danger remains, not because Molech exists, but because we are deceived into setting up Molechs and serving them, feeling powerless to do otherwise, while at the same time we give Molech the power over us. We prove willing to put fealty to a principle or an idea over natural care and compassion for people. We become afraid at the prospect of various dangers, and thus prove willing to justify all kinds of awful and terrible behavior so as to maintain the veneer of safety and comfort. We might look to legislation to fix things, but legislation can only try to enforce certain norms of behavior; it does not fix the underlying cultural trends which would justify or commend those behaviors in the first place. If we will stop serving “Molech,” we must repent, and no longer put our confidence in the ways of the world imprisoned by the principalities and powers, but to trust in the God who made us and in His Son who triumphed over the powers and principalities in His death and resurrection. It may lead to our alienation, persecution, and suffering; our vindication will come from God. May we serve the One True God and obtain the resurrection of life!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Good and Pleasant Unity

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is / for brethren to dwell together in unity! (Psalm 133:1)

Few joys prove as sweet as harmony in relational unity.

The middle of Book V of the Psalms is dedicated to “psalms of ascent” (Psalms 120:1-134:3). These would be psalms for Israelites to sing as they made the journey up to Jerusalem in general or specifically to the Temple complex on Mount Zion. Most of the psalms of ascent praise YHWH for His greatness and for manifesting Himself among His people on Zion, or represent praises of Zion itself. Yet Psalm 133:1-3, tucked in toward the end of the psalms of ascent, is a meditation on the benefits of unity among brothers.

David proclaimed how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity (Psalm 133:1); he compared its pleasantry to the anointing oil which would run down Aaron’s head, beard, and onto his garments, and the dew of Mount Hermon coming upon Zion (Psalm 133:2-3). In Exodus 30:22-33 YHWH described the oil of anointing and its purpose to Moses; in Leviticus 8:12 Moses actually anoints Aaron as high priest “to sanctify him.” In a semi-arid climate like Israel, mountain dew provides a welcome and relieving form of moisture which allows for plants to grow and flourish; Hermon, in the north, in antiquity maintained snow all year round, and it would have been possible for moist air from Hermon to provide dew on Mount Zion near Jerusalem.

While we may not have chosen these images to illustrate the beauty of relational unity, they remain powerful and profound if we meditate upon them. Through them David asserted the holiness and refreshment which relational unity provides.

Holiness would be on the mind of all those ascending to Jerusalem; the journey would have no doubt been for one of the three annual festivals for which all Israelites were expected to stand before YHWH (Passover/Feast of Unleavened Bread, Feast of Weeks/Shauvot/Pentecost, Feast of Booths; Deuteronomy 16:16-17). Aaron was Moses’ brother and an Israelite; he only became the high priest, set apart from the people to God’s service, once the anointing oil was placed upon his head. The anointing oil as envisioned upon Aaron is the moment of dedication and consecration, the powerful ritual of setting Aaron apart for YHWH’s service, a reminder of YHWH’s covenant with Israel and Israel’s relationship with YHWH.

Aaron was consecrated with oil running down his head; in its own way, YHWH refreshed Zion with dew from Hermon falling upon its crest. Dew can be collected and used for drinking; plants take in the dew and provide their fruit. Dew is a little bit of moisture in a dry place; it is a little bit of refreshment in the midst of bitterness; it is a sign of life in the midst of barrenness.

David spoke of unity among brothers (Psalm 133:1). No doubt the primary and first referent is among brothers in the flesh, and by extension within the family. Such an application makes good contextual sense: Israelites did not go up to Jerusalem by themselves; they would travel in family groups (cf. Luke 2:41-45). We can imagine a caravan featuring an extended family of brothers with their parents, wives, and children negotiating the narrow roads up to Jerusalem; even under the best of family circumstances there would have been moments of friction and conflict, let alone if any previous animosity existed between them. The journey would have provided ample time to have it out, reconcile, or perhaps unfortunately lead to greater division or separation. In such an environment Psalm 133:1-3 is an exhortative reminder of the value of family, the benefit of unity within the group, and would hopefully orient the mind of all on the journey to put aside their differences, contextualize their momentary frustrations, and appreciate the benefits of having each other and maintaining unity among one another. Brothers dwelling in unity can support each other, refresh each other, benefit each other; they can more easily prosper, and their enemies will be put to shame. Brothers fighting each other cause great stress, strain, and perhaps impoverishment or even death. Unity is far more pleasant and desirable!

We can draw similar applications within families today; Ephesians 5:22-6:4 sets forth how husbands and wives, parents and children can dwell in unity. In Christ we can also extend the application to the church, since we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, fellow members of the household of God (Ephesians 2:19-22).

Unity among Christians is holy and refreshing. Christians are supposed to be diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:3): our unity does not spring from our own striving, but from what God has accomplished in Jesus, making us all into one man (Ephesians 2:11-18). It is a unique and awesome privilege to be made a part of the people of God and invited to share in the relational unity which marks the Godhead (John 17:20-23)! God manifests His plan in Christ in the unity of the church, displaying it before the powers and principalities in the heavenly places (Ephesians 3:10-11). Meanwhile, the world is full of brokenness, alienation, and division; it has ever been, and ever will be. To see people of different backgrounds, socio-economic standing, and abilities loving one another and working together to glorify God in Christ has immense appeal and power. Relational unity is an oasis of joy in a bitter, barren land.

Unfortunately all too often holiness and unity are held in opposition. In the eyes of many, you can have one or the other, but not both: if you want to be holy, unity is out the window; if you seek unity, holiness and integrity must be compromised. And yet God is both the standard of holiness and relationally unified in Himself (John 17:20-23, 1 Peter 1:15-16). God brings holiness and unity together in Himself and yearns for holiness and unity be brought together in His people. Unity is possible if the people of God would only humble themselves, trust in God, seek one another’s benefit, and not insist on one’s own way (Philippians 2:1-4, Philippians 4:1-3).

Unity is rarely comfortable; unity is hard work. Unity demands that we suffer the inadequacies and weaknesses of others in the recognition that others must suffer our inadequacies and weaknesses. But in unity there is love, acceptance, and strength. When we are truly one with each other we know where we belong and we draw strength from our standing and our connection from others. We do well, therefore, to proclaim Psalm 133:1-3, meditate upon it, and allow it to orient our thinking about the blessings of unity. May we enjoy the pleasurable benefits of unity among brethren, holy and refreshing, and obtain the resurrection of life!

Ethan R. Longhenry

Bathsheba

And David sent and inquired after the woman.
And one said, “Is not this Bath-sheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” (2 Samuel 11:3).

We can only imagine what thoughts would have occupied and consumed her mind.

It was a normal spring day; her husband was off to war again (2 Samuel 11:1). We might imagine she was concerned for his welfare. By all accounts she was following her normal patterns of life; the “time of women” had departed from her, and so she was observing what the Law demanded and bathed for purification on the roof, as she did monthly (2 Samuel 11:2, 4; cf. Leviticus 15:19-24).

Then she received a summons from the King himself. Whether she knew its purpose beforehand is unknown; its purpose would become manifest soon enough. He greatly desired her sexually. What went through her mind is also entirely unknown. She did not turn him away; after all, he was the king. The king gets his way (2 Samuel 11:4).

Bathsheba went home. We do not know how she felt. We can only imagine what may have gone through her mind. At some point very soon after she recognized she was pregnant from the encounter and she made it known to David (2 Samuel 11:5).

Soon after she received the terrible news of the death of her husband in war (2 Samuel 11:26). She lamented over him. We do not know the quality and strength of their relationship, but if Uriah had proven even half as committed and dedicated to Bathsheba as he was to David, this would have been a terrible blow indeed (cf. 2 Samuel 11:6-13). Perhaps Bathsheba just believed that bad things had happened to come all at once. Perhaps she had some inkling or doubt regarding this all being coincidental. We cannot know.

Bathsheba then received another summons from David, this time to come into his house and become his wife (2 Samuel 11:27). We can again only imagine how she felt or what she thought. He was the king. The king gets his way. She entered his house and became his wife. She gave birth to a baby boy. Some people might have had questions. But the entire affair seemed under wraps.

The judgment of YHWH came strongly against David for his behavior (2 Samuel 12:1-14). Bathsheba would be given reason to suffer again: her child was condemned to death for the transgression which took place. We do not know how she felt or what she thought about this. We can only imagine.

Later on her husband would “comfort” her, and she would conceive another son (2 Samuel 12:24). This son would be Solomon. Solomon would now be Bathsheba’s source of strength and comfort; her fate was tied to his, and she made sure that he obtained the right and privilege of kingship which David had promised to him (1 Kings 1:11-38). Bathsheba became the Queen Mother; her livelihood would be sustained for the rest of her life.

At some point she died. We do not know how she felt or what she thought about all she had experienced. We can only imagine.

Bathsheba’s story is narrated by the Samuel author; David’s adultery with her represented the crux of the 2 Samuel narrative, providing the explanation for all of the conflict and strife which would mark David’s house when his children became of age. But we never hear the story, or anything about the narrative, from Bathsheba’s perspective.

Instead, Bathsheba and her place in the story has become a Rorschach test of projection for generations afterward: we learn exactly what people think of male and female sexuality based on how they respond to the precious little which is revealed about her.

For most of that time men have been not a little afraid of the power of female sexuality, and have turned Bathsheba into a temptress. Many have denounced her for bathing on the roof, exposing herself, giving David the opportunity to lust for her. They deride her willingness to answer the summons; they imagine she must have fully consented to the encounter, perhaps even enjoyed the adultery, and cleaned up afterward fastidiously. In some way or another they have made her out to be the whore.

But these days the story of Bathsheba is coming up for reassessment, and the power dynamics involved come into play. Bathsheba is now seen as the victim of rape. Whatever consent she may have provided was not based on real desire for sexual intercourse but fear based on unequal power relations: how could she realistically refuse the king? Throughout the narrative she is acted upon; she is the vessel for the exercise of male lust, and then she is the one who must bear the lion’s share of the grief and suffering.

What shall we say to these things? We must admit where we remain ignorant and will always remain ignorant. We know that Bathsheba did not fully resist David’s advances: we do not know whether she participated enthusiastically or fearfully in subjection to her king and lord. Nevertheless we do know that such was not Bathsheba’s idea: David is the prime actor throughout the narrative. Whatever we say about her experience will be rooted more in speculation than anything revealed in the text: her side of the story is never told.

But what is revealed by the Samuel author exonerates Bathsheba more than it would indict her. From all we have gained about common living practices in Jerusalem at the time, Bathsheba’s bathing on the roof was not out of the ordinary; others would generally not be able to see, but David was able to see because his house was built up higher than the rest. For that matter, 2 Samuel 11:1 provides the damning detail: the time had come for the men to be out fighting, but David had remained back in the palace. David should not have been there to look at Bathsheba; she had no reason to imagine that he was in town! Furthermore, the best evidence suggests that 2 Samuel 11:4 explains the reason for bathing in the first place: she was cleansing herself from the impurity of her menstrual cycle. The Hebrew of the text is admittedly a bit odd sounding, but previous commentators used it as a tool by which to indict Bathsheba, presuming it referred to the post-coital cleansing which would have been demanded by Leviticus 15:18. And yet it is used as an explanatory as to why David was able to lay with her, not describing later behavior (although we have no reason to believe that Bathsheba would not again bathe to remove the ritual impurity).

The strongest evidence, however, comes from 2 Samuel 12:1-14. Nathan, directed by YHWH, indicts David for his behavior. Bathsheba is compared to the beloved ewe lamb of a poor man which was seized by a richer man to provide for a visitor (2 Samuel 12:1-4). David is the one charged with taking the wife of Uriah the Hittite and having Uriah killed; David is the one held responsible for what happened (2 Samuel 12:1-14). At no point in the narrative is Bathsheba herself explicitly condemned as guilty.

Bathsheba was a party in an adulterous affair. Was she bathing on the roof? Yes, according to her custom, attempting to uphold the purity elements of the Law. Even if her bathing had been scandalous, David’s response was unjustified: he could have looked and turned away and enjoyed the many wives YHWH had given him. Perhaps she was more complicit than the text explicitly reveals; if so, YHWH would hold her responsible for her part in the adultery. And yet it remains at least equally possible that Bathsheba was essentially raped, giving of herself only because she was a subject of the king and afraid of the consequences of rejecting him. She would then be deprived of her husband and then find herself in the same trap as before, but now to become the wife of the man who had essentially raped her, because what other option did she have now that she was pregnant with his child?

In the end, we can only imagine what Bathsheba went through. We cannot know what went through her mind. But we have no right to condemn her because of our own apprehensions, fears, and projections. The Samuel author condemns David for his behavior; Bathsheba might well have been more a victim than a whore. The whole episode is a strong warning for us to be careful lest we project our own issues and biases upon contexts to which they are foreign, and casting blame where it may not belong, and mischaracterize those of the past when all the information necessary to fill in the character is not present.

Because, in the end, we can only imagine what Bathsheba felt and what thoughts occupied and consumed her mind.

Ethan R. Longhenry

Laying Down Our Lives

Hereby know we love, because he laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren (1 John 3:16).

“I would die for you.”

Such a line makes for a very touching moment in a romantic movie, or an inspiring one if it involved a political leader fighting a worthy cause. It would seem quite strange if used toward one who was evil or vile, an enemy, or someone we otherwise have reasons to dislike.

And yet Jesus laid down His life for us (1 John 3:16); He gave of Himself for those who did evil, who did not understand His work and purpose, and who acted against God and His purposes (Romans 5:6-11).

John is writing to exhort Christians to love one another (1 John 3:11-4:21). Cain is offered up as an example of one who hated his brother: his brother’s works were righteous, and his were not, and in jealousy Cain killed him (1 John 3:11-12; cf. Genesis 4:1-8). For this reason Christians who do what is right should not be surprised when the world which loves the wrong hates them; Christians can know they have passed out of death to life based on their love for one another (1 John 3:13-14). Those who do not love abide in death; whoever hates his brother is a murderer, not having eternal life in them, because they have no concern for the welfare of their brother (1 John 3:15). And so John points to Jesus as the means by which we know love: He laid down His life for us, and therefore we as Christians should lay down our lives for one another (1 John 3:16). He will go on to critique his fellow Christians: if a Christian has the world’s goods, and sees his or her fellow Christian going without, and yet shuts up his or her heart and compassion from them, how can they say they really love their brother (1 John 3:17)? Christian love should be in deed and truth, not with mere words (1 John 3:18).

No doubt early Christians were as convinced as Christians are today regarding love for one another. We all know we are supposed to love one another, right? But do we really and actually love one another, or do we just profess it? That is why John writes as he does in 1 John 3:11-18. Christians are inspired by the lofty ideals of love; they, no doubt, are willing to lay down their lives for one another as Jesus laid down His life for us. But in the very practical matter of seeing a brother in need, then what? It can be easy to excuse or justify why some have an abundance and others have nothing, and nothing is done to assist. That, John emphasizes, is not love; that’s hatred, of the world and Cain and the Evil One. If you are so willing to lay down your life for one another, why not start by providing something for a fellow Christian in need?

Nevertheless 1 John 3:16 proves almost as famous, and just as easily taken out of its context and proof-texted, as John 3:16. It provides a powerful message and a good reminder: as Jesus laid down His life for us and thus manifested His love toward us, we should prove willing to do the same for one another (cf. Matthew 20:25-28). But what does that mean? What did it look like for Jesus to lay down His life for others?

John makes it clear why Jesus laid down His life for His people: to be the propitiation for their sins (1 John 4:10). He loved them; He did not want them to experience hellfire; He wished to reconcile them with Himself and their God (John 13:1-3, 17:20-23, Romans 5:6-11). He suffered the evil; He suffered violence; and in suffering the evil and violence He overcame sin and death (Romans 8:1-8, Colossians 2:15). Jesus was a pure and holy sacrifice; He opened not his mouth, and proved to be the Suffering Servant in every respect (Isaiah 42:13-53:12, 1 Peter 2:18-25). His death was as much for those who crucified Him as those who were devoted to Him (Luke 23:34).

Christians following the Lord Jesus are not sinless, and yet even their sacrifices, up to and including death, have value and standing before God. Paul considered the suffering he experienced as making up for what was lacking in the afflictions of the church; his tribulations were for the glory of those who believed (Ephesians 3:13, Colossians 1:24). Thus, in some way, Christians can suffer for one another; we can imagine that within the early church some Christians suffered mightily so that others might be spared. Yet even then they did not retaliate in kind; they knew they needed to suffer as Jesus suffered if they would obtain the same victory Jesus did (Romans 8:17-18).

This image of sacrifice is so powerful that it is easily taken up and applied in other contexts never intended by the Lord Jesus. In the United States of America, as in many other nation-states, the willingness of a person to go and fight and give up their lives in conflict for the advancement of the nation-state and its ideals is highly commended. In this way a picture is painted of a person who goes down, guns blazing, to protect or defend an ideal, a nation, or a person. We may appreciate what a given nation-state provides, and even appreciate the willingness to give one’s life for the advancement of that nation-state’s purpose, but that person has not laid down their life as Jesus laid down His. Jesus did not die seeking to harm others; He died for the salvation of all mankind. Anyone who dies in combat or in a context in which violence is returned for violence is seeking the harm of others, however merited that harm may seem. One may think one’s sacrifice in war or in defense valorous; it rarely seems as valorous to those on the other side who would have been the ones killed or injured otherwise.

For Christians the cross of Calvary always stands before them, the way forward to find life indeed. It is a path that will involve personal hardship, suffering, and for some, even death for the cause of Christ. Yet the cross of Christ was not an instrument used to harm others; it was the means by which God worked to reconcile the world to Himself in Jesus, the terrible criminal as well as the “good, upstanding” citizen. If called upon, the Christian ought to willingly lay down his or her life for the brethren, as Jesus did; such a calling does not justify harming others in the process. May we love one another as Jesus has loved us, loving in deed and in truth, and thus obtain the resurrection of life!

Ethan R. Longhenry